


The Spider's Alive & He's Rebuilding The Web

by Cortassian



Category: James Bond (Movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:53:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cortassian/pseuds/Cortassian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have become quiet and dull at Baker street, until an old friend of John's strolls in with the backing of MI6 and job offer.  A spider, named Moriarty is alive and he's rebuilding his web.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spider's Alive & He's Rebuilding The Web

** Chapter One: Old Friends **

It was a quiet day at the Baker Street residence, Sherlock was out and John had the flat to himself, usually he would love days like these... but these days had become more like a permanent setting, no new cases-at least none Sherlock found interesting. 

“John?”

“Yes Mrs. Hudson?” John responded without looking up from his paper scouting out potential cases for Sherlock.

“You’ve got a visitor.”

“Hmm.” John looked up “Bond?”

“Hello, Watson.” Bond returned smugly.

Mrs. Hudson gave a sweet smile throwing out she’d be out getting groceries.

“My god it’s been years, how are you? John said, raising himself from his seat.

“Well I was dead for awhile, but other than that never better. Got anything to drink?

John faltered for a moment, but resumed himself, “Ah yes in the fridge—I’m sorry dead you said?”

“Yes, yes also known as MI6 retirement.” Bond said moving into the kitchen.

“Oh, does this have something to do with the bombing at MI6 headquarters?”

“Funny enough-it’s what brought me back.” Bond smirked opening the fridge.

“John?”

“Yes?”

“There’s a head.” Bond stated more confused than concerned. “New hobbies my friend?”

“Ah no that’s Sherlock’s-another bloody experiment, hurry and close it, I forgot all about it.”

“Sherlock, that’s right you've become domestic. Did I miss the wedding John?

“We’re not a couple.” John spoke with a tone that said _bloody hell not again_.

“So you say, though I think you could have found a more brilliant partner John, one that had at least known the earth orbits the sun.” Bond chuckled.

“Another fan of your blog, John?” Sherlock asked irritably upon entering the room.

John let out an internal groan, _why did he ever post that stupid bloody fact about Sherlock! And why did Sherlock have to appear at that moment?_  
“Sherlock…you’re back. This is an old friend of mine from the war. James this is Sherlock.” John said attempting to pacify the situation with introductions.

“Pleasure, Bond James Bond.” He said reaching out his hand.

Sherlock briefly looked up from his phone, analyzing Bond up and down before returning back to his phone as well as his cushioned chair. “Ex-retired special MI6 Agent recently reinstated with a prerogative for woman and liquor. Hope you told your… friend, we don’t have any scotch.”

“So you have told him about me John?” Bond said with a happy smirk.

John pursed his lips and shook his head _“wait for it._ ” John thought.

“You hold yourself similar to that of a military man, though less rigid. John said old friend from the war-not the army, but you are government I know another who chooses to walk around half-cocked and false pride. The red lipstick on your collar and the brownish stain near your cufflink gives away to both of your…impulses, shall we say? Sherlock listed never looking up from his phone.

“All that from my coat and walk?” Bond asked amused.

“Why is he here?”

“Sherlock!” John chastised.

“To see you actually, sorry old friend, but I am here on business.”

John turned to his friend who now wore a serious expression.

“Not interested.” Sherlock said curtly.

“Sherlock, you haven’t even heard him out.” John chastised again.

“Angelo, has invited us to try his new menu-he insist.”

“Perhaps you should hear him out first, Sherlock, you’ve been complaining of boredom all week-FOR GODSAKE LOOK AT OUR WALL!”

“No. Not interested, I said we’d go.” Sherlock sighed.

James was beside himself with amusement between the two, “I would ask you to hear me out Sherlock for John’s and the walls sake, do you know of Moriarty?”

The single phrase is reason why John now sat in a car with Bond and Sherlock racing to the new MI6 headquarters. Bond has said they have to speak at MI6, but the mention of Moriarty and Sherlock would have found his way underneath a cave of lava. Despite, the madman’s death Sherlock’s obsession with him had not ended, to John’s dismay. It took less than 15 minutes to get to the new underground lair with James at the wheel.

The tunnels were wide and cool, it had reminded John of when he and some South African mercenaries had to sneak across the borders through the sewage system, this one was at least cleaner and nicer. The three of them had approach a large room surrounded by computer with techs on each side.

A tall slender man with brown hair stood at the center tapping on the keys. Mycroft was chatting to an older man, who looked mildly upset.

“Q? Have we found his location yet?

“Not yet.” Q said turning around. “Sherlock, you came.”

Sherlock’s mouth tightened, analyzing Q up and down.

“Sherlock, this is important put your pettiness down.” Mycroft curled out.

“How was France?”

“Mycroft informed you.” Q replied.

“I never inform him.”

“Your face is flushed its always flushed when you fly-it must have been a short flight given that you’re not overtly sick. The cologne your Agent 007 is wearing reminiscent of Noir an aggressive yet subtle wood-spice scent. You’re absolutely drenched in the smell, god I can smell you from here.

“Sherlock.” Q warned.

“From your trip to France, tell me was the suite cramped?”

John sensing the tension between the two of them, as Bond looked toward the floor as M began to stare him down. Mycroft gave a small eye roll, as Q and Sherlock analyzed each other up and down.

“So the two of you know each other then?”

Neither Q nor Sherlock said a word both simply continued to watch each other as if the two were playing a game of chess with looks alone.

Mycroft strolled between the two placing a hand on each one of their shoulders.

“Q here is the youngest of the Holmes brother.”

“Half-brother.” Sherlock spit out.


End file.
